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Sunday, September 27, 2015

“Moira River” by Heather Conrad

I have a cottage on the
Moira River. It is perfect for me. The river is long, but not very wide and
great for exploring in my kayak. The Moira supports an abundance of life; fish,
frogs, birds, water snakes, beaver and me.

When I go
to the river I shed the cares and chaos of the city and am immediately calmed.
I can hear the wind in the trees. I hear the squawk of the blue jays and I can
hear my own random thoughts.

In the
evening the water becomes smooth as glass, reflecting the trees and grasses at
the shore as well as the moon above. Skimming along on the water I can see the
dart of a speckled fish scooting under the kayak.

The river
is always reinventing itself. Every year it is different. One year the winter
storms uprooted some trees, exposing their earth-packed roots to the sun, while
their long branches swept across the water. Now the turtles used this new
platform to sun themselves. This year the river has planted a little cluster of
mauve iris on my water front. They may not be there next year but I remain
hopeful.

As I
write I sit on the porch watching the blue jays come for the peanuts I’ve placed
along the railing for them. They are so beautiful. The young ones have a hard
time trying to open the shells while the more experienced birds can pick up two
at a time and fly off with their treasure. I never get to see how they open
them.

Sometimes
a blue jay will take a peanut and hide it under the leaves of the ground cover.
I’ve never seen if they remember to retrieve it later. The mourning doves scour
the ground beneath the feeder, too sedate to vie with the other birds for a
perch. Other ground feeders today are a little brown wren and, of course, a
chipmunk.

The
kingfisher screeches across the river, scoops up a fish and sits on a branch to
eat its breakfast. One summer a loon came to the river. It stayed for
twenty-four hours in front of the cottage and then disappeared. I was happy for
the visit.

This
summer the grackles have taken over the feeder. They are so aggressive and loud
that it can sound like a battlefield outside the cottage. The blue jays compete
with them to see who can be loudest. The red breasted grosbeak, Downey
woodpecker and nuthatch all patiently wait their turn. Even the goldfinch come.

But I
miss the chickadees. They have not come to the feeder since the grackles are
there. The chickadees always have been my faithful friends since I got the
cottage. Usually there are six or seven flitting about, singing their
distinctive song. Because I miss them I have taken down the regular feeder and
put up one for small birds only. There are no grackles now. I am still waiting
for the chickadees.

One day
two palliated woodpeckers came. They were so large, so colourful I thought I
had been transported to the tropics. Across the river a heron stands stock
still. It would be easy to miss if you didn’t know where to look. In the
evening it flies down the river towards home, croaking like an animal twice its
size.

The river
has given me so many gifts. It is my respite from the world. Its complexity and
richness reinforce for me that there is an integrity in the natural world, if
not in the one created by humankind. At the river I can find that integrity
reflected in myself. I am grounded in a way I find hard to maintain in the
city.

Some
gifts are even more tangible. I have a collection of feathers left for me by my avian friends. They are the beautiful reminders of
my gratitude and wonder.

Heather Conradspent 40 years as a nurse, collecting thousands
of stories from the people she has met. Now she’s using her retirement to hone
her writing skills. She feels there is a book about community nursing somewhere
in her wanting to get out. Her experience with Brian Henry’s classes is one of
the first steps taken to fulfill this ambition. Heather lives in Toronto.

Brian Henry has been a book editor, writer, and creative writing instructor for more than 25 years. He teaches creative writing at Ryerson University. He also leads weekly creative writing courses in Burlington, Mississauga, Oakville and Georgetown and conducts Saturday workshops throughout Ontario. His proudest boast is that he has helped many of his students get published.